by Sandra Brown
“God bless Jack and make him not leave.”
Jack raised his head. He looked quickly at David, then at Anna. She must have been reading David’s lips because she looked at Jack at the same moment, and when their eyes met she quickly looked away. Bending over David, she kissed him good night and signed that she loved him.
“I love you, too, Mom.”
“ ’Night, David.”
“Jack, are you going to be here in the morning when I wake up?”
“Sure. I’m counting on you to help me see what kind of damage that storm left us.”
“Cool!”
Anna blew out the candle on the nightstand. David snuggled down into his pillow and closed his eyes. He was almost asleep before Anna and Jack reached the door.
Out in the hallway, they faced each other across their lighted candles. “This is going to seem very presumptuous. Presumptuous,” he repeated when she signaled that she hadn’t understood. “Rude.” She nodded. “Would you mind if I use your shower?”
She motioned him toward the bathroom.
“Because the trailer… The trailer…”
She tilted her head to one side, a listening posture for hearing people. But her eyes were on his lips and that distracted him. “Uh, best I could tell, you lost most of the barn’s roof. Insurance should cover it. Some fencing was ripped up. Goddamn if the thing didn’t pull sod right out of the ground. I’ve never seen a tornado do that before. The toolshed is a total loss. Tomorrow I’ll do a more thorough check. Sort of hard to tell how extensive the damage is in the dark and with this rain. I might have missed some things.”
He followed her fingers as she spelled out the word trailer.
He looked away from her for a moment, then, knowing she would see it for herself in the morning, told her, “Smashed flat like a tin can that has been stamped on.”
She stared at his mouth as he said the words, and even for a moment longer. Then she lowered her eyes and stared at nothing. The water dripping from the leaky ceiling into the pots and pans produced a funny, discordant percussion she couldn’t hear.
Jack almost touched her, but pulled back his hand just shy of making contact with her forearm. She saw the motion, however, and looked up at him again. “We got lucky, Anna.”
She glanced into David’s room. Jack watched her throat as it worked hard to swallow. On the verge of tears, her head came back around to him.
“Going back to what we were talking about before,” he said, “I’d like to shower if that’s all right. Unless you’d rather…” He was so taken with the play of candlelight and shadow across her face, that his request dwindled to nothing.
When his lips stopped moving, she raised her eyes to his.
“Unless you’d rather I didn’t.”
“Help yourself,” she signed, spelling out the words.
“Okay, then. And I’ll, uh, I’ll rack in my truck. It won’t be the first time, and it’s not that bad.”
Before he even stopped speaking, she was waving her hand for him to stop.
“What?”
She made the sign for sleep and pointed downstairs.
“On the sofa? You sure?”
She nodded.
He shifted from one bare foot to the other. “Come to think of it, that might not be a bad idea. With the power off and all, maybe I should stay—”
She nodded more emphatically and a little impatiently.
Jack quit while he was ahead.
“Okay, then, well…” He stood there a moment longer, at a loss for what to say or do next, only knowing that he didn’t want to say good night and separate just yet. “Well, I’ll, uh, take that shower now and let you, you know, get to bed. You must be exhausted. Good night.”
She signed “Good night,” then turned and went down the hallway toward her room, using her candle to light the way, stepping around the pans that had collected a good amount of rainwater already.
* * *
Jack stood beneath the shower for a long time, letting the hot spray beat against his skull, then between his shoulder blades, massaging out the tension. He soaped and rinsed and soaped again, then continued to stand under the water until it turned cool.
After drying, he slipped on a pair of clean jeans and a T-shirt, spares he kept in the toolbox of his truck for just this sort of emergency. He wiped out the tub, and gathered up his and David’s wet towels, intending to take them downstairs to the utility room along with his wet clothes.
But when he stepped out into the hallway, he heard quiet sobs coming from Anna’s room.
He debated it. For about half a second.
Dropping his wet bundle on the floor, he moved down the hall and peeked into her bedroom. She had placed the candle on the nightstand and turned down the bed, but she was sitting in a rocking chair near the window, staring out at the rain, crying.
She was unaware of his approach until she saw his reflection in the windowpane. Startled, she quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks, stood, and turned to face him. “I don’t want to disturb you, Anna. I just wanted to see if you were all right.”
For a long moment she did nothing except look back at him. Finally she formed the sign for the letter b with her right hand, raised it to her lips, moved it forward and down, as though blowing him a kiss. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
She gave him a retiring look, then signed David’s name.
Huskily Jack replied, “For Godsake, Anna, you don’t have to thank me for that.”
She shook her head stubbornly and formed the sign again. Except this time, her fingers remained against her lips, which began to tremble, and as Jack watched, tears overflowed her eyes again.
“Hey. Hey.” He took the steps necessary to reach her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Everything’s okay now. You were scared. Hell, I was scared, but nothing really bad happened. David is safe. That’s all that matters.”
From there it seemed only natural to draw her against him. Placing his hand on the back of her head, he tucked it beneath his chin. Her tears were absorbed into his T-shirt. Awkwardly, he patted her back. “Everything’s okay. This is a delayed reaction to anxiety, that’s all. If it makes you feel better to cry it out, you go right ahead. Bawl your eyes out. You’ve earned a good cry. I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”
As before in the cellar, she wasn’t reading his lips, but the literal translation of the words was unimportant. Their meaning was understood. She laid her fingertips against his larynx, listening to him through her sense of touch. He kept talking, whispering actually, conveying his reassurances through vibrations.
“David scared the living daylights out of you, disappearing like that. And to make matters worse you had a tornado bearing down on you. But it turned out all right, didn’t it?”
She kept her head down, but her fingers moved up to his lips and rested there lightly, barely touching. “I can’t say as I blame you for crying. I’ve felt like crying several times this evening. I got real choked up listening to his prayers. So I know how you feel.” He rubbed her back in a circular motion. “Let it out. I’ll be right here.”
He stopped speaking but her fingertips remained against his lips. He kissed them softly. Then again. She turned her hand horizontally across his lips and he kissed her palm. When her hand moved to brace his jaw, he dropped a light kiss on her temple, then her cheekbone.
Where his lips remained.
Forever.
While his heart raced like a son of a bitch.
He tilted his head down and across as she tilted hers up and across, and their lips grazed each other. They reversed angles and glanced off each other a second time, only not as rapidly. His arms tensed, tightening the embrace. Then, pressing her lips with his, he kissed her.
He thought Oh, Lord, oh, Lord, because her mouth was very soft and so sweet and temptingly receptive.
Moments later, it was he who initiated the exchange of tongues, but she responded favorably.
&nb
sp; Everything else in Jack’s world receded. Worries and regrets fell away like unlocked leg irons. A curtain was drawn across his history. He existed only in the here and now, immersed in Anna. His senses were saturated with her. The flowery smell clinging to her skin and hair. The feel of her small body curving into his. The incredible taste of her mouth. Nothing in his lifetime compared to this.
When it was snatched away, he reeled from the abrupt loss.
He opened his eyes to see her backing away from him, her lips rolled inward, her chest rising and falling rapidly. And he cursed himself for a goddamn fool. Yeah, he was caught up in it. He was crazy with lust. That didn’t mean she was. Why should she be? Look at them. She was gorgeous and he was… well, sure as hell not gorgeous. She had been married, but there was a quality about her that was almost innocent, and he wasn’t even close to that. Women’s intuition being what it was, Anna would know he was the last thing she needed in her already complicated life.
He raised one hand imploringly. “Anna, I apologize. I—”
He ceased talking when she tugged her shirttail from the waistband of her jeans and rapidly undid the buttons. He was immobilized first by shock, then by the sight of that smooth strip of exposed skin. Her breasts were covered, but they held the fabric away from her body, and that was sexier than if she’d been naked. Maybe. He still wanted to see her naked.
She stood taut as a wire. Holding her breath. Expectant.
He moved toward her and slid his hands inside her blouse. They bracketed her rib cage for a few seconds while his eyes probed hers, then he pulled her against him and resumed the kiss.
Her skin was as soft as he’d imagined it, her body as responsive as he’d hoped, her appetite for him as strong as his for her. Her arms went around his neck, and in that locked embrace he walked forward until she came up against the wall. Lowering his head, he kissed her neck, her chest, her breasts. She made a sound low and deep in her throat and he kissed that arched column before returning to her mouth.
She angled her middle up and forward to rub against his. He dropped his hands to the rear pockets of her jeans and raised her higher against him, pressed her tighter. With her hands on his shoulders, she pushed against him aggressively, rotating their positions until his shoulder blades were against the wall. She raised his T-shirt and pressed open-mouthed kisses on his chest and belly. He felt her tongue against his skin and when it flicked one of his nipples, it nearly took the top of his head off.
He fumbled with the buttons of his fly, but when they were undone, it was Anna who reached inside. He hoarsely called her name on a sound that could have been a laugh, or a sigh, but was definitely caused by pleasurable surprise. Her caress was a gentle squeeze that milked a drop of semen from him.
“Ah, God,” he groaned.
His wits seemed to flutter away from him on a million rising wings. Knowing he couldn’t take much more before he embarrassed himself, he reached for her hand and pulled it away, managing to pant, “I don’t want to spoil it. I want to touch you, too.”
She must have understood him, at least the essence of it, because she led him to the bed, where she removed her blue jeans. As she stepped out of them she also took off her blouse. He could find no flaw in her, and that seeming perfection intimidated him.
He stood there feeling gauche and awkward, but she showed no such timidity. She slipped her hands inside the seat of his jeans and eased them down, smoothing her hands over his buttocks. His penis jutted between them; she studied it with frank interest. Between her small hands, his sex felt full and heavy and hard. This rampant evidence of his virility restored his self-confidence. In fact, he was suddenly drunk with vanity.
She had lovely breasts. Perfect, in fact. The nipples tightened against his caressing fingertips and tongue. He sucked them delicately as he skimmed her tummy with the backs of his fingers. His knuckles brushed past her navel.
Her underpants were silky. Inside them the hair was soft. Her center was very wet.
* * *
She lay still beneath him for what seemed like a long time, yet it wasn’t long enough. It could never be long enough. She wouldn’t have minded if he’d fallen asleep and not moved until morning. She liked the feel of his weight on her, the pressure of him inside her.
But he wasn’t asleep. Occasionally she felt his fingers moving in her hair, gently caressing her scalp. His rough cheek rubbed against her earlobe. His teeth nipped her neck. She hoped he was doing what she was—basking in the intimacy.
But eventually he disengaged himself and eased onto his side. She rolled to her side to face him. They nuzzled. She felt his lips moving against her cheek and pulled back to see what he was saying. “Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head.
“I thought you… you know, sort of tensed up when…”
She smiled and laid her fingertips against his lips. His penetration had hurt a little. It had been a long time since she’d been with a man, and she had had a baby since then. How like Jack to notice her subtle reflex.
The mild discomfort had lasted only an instant, however. Then she had hugged his hips with her legs and immodestly urged him to penetrate deeper. She blushed now thinking about how lusty her participation had been. She had made it practically impossible for him not to make love to her. So afraid that he would stop after that first kiss, she had seized the initiative.
She had wanted him. If tonight hadn’t ended with them like this, she would have regretted it forever. Whatever happened tomorrow would happen. But she was with him now, and he was gazing at her in the same dreamy fashion with which she knew she was gazing back.
He stroked her cheek with his index finger. “You’re so beautiful, Anna.”
She spelled out the words “So are you.”
He guffawed. “Me? Beautiful? That’s funny.”
“You are.” Her fingers formed the letters insistently.
“I thought my face just said a lot.”
She could tell he was teasing her. “That, too.”
His smile gradually relaxed as his eyes searched hers. “What’s it saying to you right now?”
Painstakingly her fingers spelled out the words. “That you are very happy to be here, like this.”
He said, “Well, it ain’t lying.”
“What did you say?”
“I said it ain’t—”
She waved that off. “I got that. What did you say when…”
“When…?” He left the question dangling and raised his eyebrows quizzically.
She gave him a long, puissant look.
“Oh, you mean when I, when you, when we… came?”
She nodded.
“Hell, Anna, I don’t know. Does it matter?”
“Only if you called another woman’s name.”
“I promise it wasn’t that.”
“Good.”
He placed his thumb against her lips and stroked it across them. His smile was sweet and a little sad. “I honestly don’t remember what I said, Anna, but whatever it was, it couldn’t come close to describing what I was feeling.”
She buried her face in his chest hair, but she held her hand up so he could easily read the words she spelled out. “I wish I could have heard it.”
He tilted her head back. “I wish you could have, too.”
She was tempted to tell him that she had started practicing speech again, but she hesitated. What if she couldn’t relearn what she had forgotten? The skills she had painstakingly developed might be hopelessly lost from disuse. She might build up his hopes and later disappoint him. Disappointing herself would be bad enough. Disappointing him would break her heart.
So better not to tell him yet. When she spoke his name for the first time, she wanted to do it well. Until she was certain she could, she would remain silent and practice in secret.
Instead, she told him, “I know what your voice sounds like.”
“Oh, yeah?”
She nodded and placed her hands on his cheeks, then
rubbed them up and down over the stubble. “Whiskers?” He thought about it for a moment, then said, “That’s not a bad description. My voice isn’t very refined. It’s sort of scratchy.”
His sappy grin made her laugh because she knew her grin was just as sappy. They kissed, briefly and lightly. Then deeply and intimately. And they couldn’t stop touching each other. Her fingers combed through his chest hair, which was a novelty for her because Dean’s chest had been smooth. From there she explored the ridge of his collarbone and his shoulder, before her hand covered his biceps. Curiously she squeezed it, and he flexed the muscle.
She spelled out, “I have two questions.”
“Yes, I know I’m a hunk. And, no, I don’t let it go to my head.”
She slapped his arm.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” He kissed her quickly and readjusted his head on the pillow. “Shoot.”
She held up one finger, indicating the first question, “What happened this morning?”
“At the sheriff’s office? They let me go. Lack of evidence. I didn’t do it, Anna.”
“I know. I didn’t believe you could have poisoned our herd, but—”
He took her hands. “You had every right to be suspicious. Just for the record, it was Emory Lomax.”
She wasn’t surprised but she asked him how he knew.
He told her about a fix-it man named Jesse Garcia and about his confrontation with Lomax in the bank. By the time he finished, she was laughing at the word picture he had painted.
“You threatened his manhood with your knife?”
“I don’t think anything short of that would have got his attention.”
Holding his face between her hands, she kissed it randomly before her mouth settled on his. She tried to deepen the kiss, but he angled his head back and looked at her seriously.
“Anna, I don’t want you getting hurt by me being here.”
The statement puzzled her, but the seriousness of his expression alarmed her. She shook her head.
“Yeah, you could,” he argued. “When it comes right down to it, you don’t know anything about me. Did Delray happen to tell you what I told him? That I move from job to job? That I’m a—”